Don't be too down on yourself, Supercoolmike. There's nothing wrong with hopping from song to song if you have a bunch of ideas. But at some point, you need to focus. It's fine to play with melodies or a set of harmonies to get a feel for them and see if they could go somewhere, seeing as that's where so many song's start. And of course, getting ideas down so you don't forget them is important. But you need to return to those ideas for them to get anywhere. Don't just focus on the part you thought was cool sounding, because that's only one piece of the puzzle.
As someone who draws, writes and composes, I can tell you first hand that in any art, there's going to be a time when you have to work on something that's going to feel tedious; that's not the part you really want to work on. Maybe it's a scene that has nothing to do with a plot point that you can't want to get to, maybe it's redrawing a minor character's facial design for the 20 time, maybe it's EQing a new set of instruments that'll be used for one small part of a song... it's always going to be something. The thing is, you have to prime the canvas before you can use it. You have to mix the paints before you get the color you're after. And that kind of "feels like I'm not making progress" work will always be there at some point to varying degrees. But if you don't get past that hump, nothing you do will ever reach the proverbial finish line.
It's great to have those bursts of inspiration and get a bit down, but the inspiration is just the "Wow! This sounds cool!" part. It's the character reveal behind who killed who, or the physical trait that makes your character look interesting. The real work comes afterward, when you have to build the song sections that come before, are around, and that come after the "cool" part. You need to build the small plot points that lead up to the murder and chose the settings/quirks/background that would cause your character to have that physical trait. You can't avoid it. But here's the thing. As you work on your song/drawing/story, you'll find more bits of inspiration. You'll compose that new musical hook, create that bit of backstory, or design a facial trait that pulls you back into what got started with the initial burst of inspiration. But that can't happen unless you go back to what you did.
It sounds like you've got the bits and pieces in place; the seeds of songs, so to speak. Now you need to pick one and listen to that bit repeatedly to get it into your head and start your mind focusing on it. Pick it apart, shuffle parts of it around, play with the harmonies and melody... hone in and see where your thoughts take it. Even if what you're doing winds up not working after two hours, you're still staying focused and trying to get it to work. You're still trying to pull more ideas out of what you've already done to make progress.
So my advice pretty much mirrors what Meteo said. Sit down, pick a track and focus on it. I had musical and story ideas sitting around on paper, tape and PC quite literally for decades that just went nowhere because I didn't put in the effort to push them past that "this sounds cool" phase. So don't be like me and sit on ideas for years. Get your ass in gear, hunker down and push through the workload that's ahead of you with your music. Don't let it become a "what if...", because that shit will haunt you.

Hello? Anyone? Did this thing die off after being accepted?
I'm still waiting for the info to put into the website (artist names, remix names, any blurbs about the songs, etc.), when everything for the site is needed by, and all of that. An update would be appreciated.

I was thinking about submitting mine, but I have a feeling between the sample used, the composition, and given how far the idea of OCR-quality has come since the last time I submitted a track, that it'd be a mistake. Don't get me wrong, I like my song and I look forward to getting to post it on my Youtube channel, but I don't feel it's above the proverbial bar when listening to OCR tracks that are similar in nature to my track.

Hello ladies and gentle peoples!
After months of work and lots of pestering, the latest An OverClocked Christmas is done and ready for downloading. Featuring a record-breaking 15 remixes of Christmas carols and VGM, it's got many different moods and genres covered. R&B, Jazzy, Orchestral, Metal... that and more are present. So with a big thanks to everyone who stepped up and submitted a remix, and to Dyne for continuing to host the files, feel free to go ahead and download the finished product that we all slaved over for you
http://williammichael.info/aocc/aoccv11.htm
Enjoy everyone. And of course, Merry Christmas!
Edit: Looks like Dyne got the official website updated, so I've changed the link. Thanks Dyne

It's that time of year again. Time for a little story with a big chunk of rhyming. I usually post this in Off Topic, but this year, I think it fits in well with Community. So, with out any more prattling on from me, I give you 'Twas XVI.
'Twas XVI: It's Not Always Just a Game
by
The Coop
'Twas two days before Christmas
and throughout the mall,
many adults were buying
their children's gift haul.
Last minute ideas and
procrastination
made for a time that proved
to be stressful, not fun.
The place was busy,
from the top floor, to the ground.
And at the mall's center
is where Santa was found.
Wearing a red and white suit,
he stroked his white beard,
letting out “Ho ho ho!”
as the next small child neared.
While the line to see him
wasn't what you'd call long,
a few still came to him
and gave him that old song
whose lyrics told of what
they wanted to receive,
and hoped that Santa would
be kind enough to leave.
Not far from where Santa sat
was one Paige Murdock,
who stood in the Boscov's store
checking out their stock
of scarfs at a table
where all scarfs were on sale.
She chose one that was colored
a tan that was pale.
Paying for it, Paige then
walked out of the big store
and started to make her way
toward the mall's front door.
She looked to her left at
Santa in his big chair,
but saw no line before him.
No children were there.
“Huh,” she muttered to herself.
“Where'd all the kids go?
Could have sworn a line was there
not that long ago.”
Giving a small shrug,
she continued on her way
so she could head home with
what she had bought that day.
As she neared the exit,
she went by a Gamestop
that was filled with people
who were looking to shop
for a game or two that
they could give to someone
in hopes of that person
having digital fun.
At first, Paige just glanced in
as she went walking by.
But as she did, a box
on a shelf caught her eye.
She kept walking at first
with a curious stare
as she tried to study
what she was seeing there.
It took a few moments
before her pace began
to slow down with each step,
which allowed her to scan
the game box that she saw
so much more, carefully.
It wasn't long before
she went over to see
the box in question and
get a much closer look.
Once she stood before it,
she then reached down and took
the box that had grabbed her
attention from its shelf.
With it in her hand,
she smiled sadly to herself
as she looked at the art
and the logo that said
“World of Warcraft” above
an Elven woman's head.
Paige said not a word as
she stood in the game store
and just stared at the game box
for a minute more.
But while other customers
ignored her and talked,
in a beeline to Paige,
a store employee walked.
Once he was standing next
to her, the young man said,
“You looking for a game or
a gift card instead?”
“I'm just browsing,” Paige said
without looking at him,
her voice distant and tinged
with a tone slightly grim.
“Are you sure?” the man asked.
“We've got newer games that-”
“I'm sure,” Paige said curtly.
“And I don't want to chat.”
Giving Paige an irked look,
the man then walked away.
But alone was something
that she just wouldn't stay.
More than one employee
noticed her and came by
to see just what it was
that she might want to buy.
With preorder talk here
and some new games talk there,
it seemed she just couldn't
get them out of her hair.
Once she'd had enough,
she just blurted, “Go away!
Stop climbing up my ass
ev'ry second, OK?!”
Much to Paige's delight,
her outburst seemed to work,
though it undoubtedly made
her look like a jerk.
For the next minute or so,
she was left alone
with her thoughts as her mind
drifted into a zone.
But she was soon pulled out when
someone said to her,
“I didn't picture you
to be a game player.”
With a vexed sigh, she turned
her head with, “Goddammit!
How many times are you going
to push your shit-?”
A moment later, she saw
the one who had spoke.
Her eyes went a bit wide and
her train of thought broke.
Beside her was fat a man
dressed up as Saint Nick.
Surprised, she stammered,
“O-oh, I'm sorry!” quite quick.
“Did you think I was
someone else?” Santa asked her.
Flustered, she said, “Yeah, I did.
I thought that you were
another store clerk bugging me
to buy something.”
Santa smiled with, “Looked like
you were ready to swing.”
Paige gave a small laugh and
apologized once more
for her swearing at him and
behaving so poor.
“It's alright,” Santa said.
“These guys can be pushy.
So, you doing some shopping?
For whom, might that be?”
“No, I'm not shopping,” she said,
her tone, somber tinged.
“It's just a game on which
my son had always binged.”
“Gave up on the game, did he?”
the fat man replied.
“No,” she said. “My son loved it
'till the day he died.”
Santa's jaw slackened and
sadness came to his face
as he watched Paige put
the game's box back into place.
“He really loved it,” she said.
“He was always on.
Sometimes he'd even play it
from dusk until dawn.
“It was like an addiction,
but not quite as bad.
Sometimes he'd tell me about
the raids that he'd had
or the monsters that he
and his friends had killed off.
It was silly to me,
but I tried not to scoff.”
“I'm sorry,” Santa said.
“When did he pass away?”
Paige then replied, “Seven years
ago yesterday.”
An uncomfortable
silence hung in the air
as others kept shopping
around the sullen pair.
In time, Paige gave Santa
a little, yet sad smile
with, “Makes Christmas time rough,
since it's when I lost Kyle.”
“That was his name?” he asked,
to which Paige replied, “Yes,”
in a way that mirrored
her visible distress.
Santa caught movement
from the corner of his eye.
A line forming at his chair,
was what he did spy.
When he looked to Paige,
he took her hand in his own.
He gave her a warm smile
and spoke in a soft tone.
“I have to go,” Santa said.
“But before I do,
I have a small question
that I'd like to ask you.
This may seem out of place,
but please tell me my dear,
what is it that you would like
for Christmas this year?”
Paige met his caring stare,
and with ache in her eyes,
said, “To talk with him once more
and apologize.”
She gave a pain-filled smile
before she walked away
and left Santa standing
with a look of dismay.
As he returned to his chair
to take each request,
Paige went out to her truck,
doing her very best
to keep her emotions
under control so she
wouldn't find herself on a
public crying spree.
She drove home and had herself
a relieving cry
and cleaned her house as the
afternoon drifted by.
By ten at night, she had
climbed into her warm bed
and onto her soft pillows,
went her sleepy head.
She laid there for a time
'fore sleep took her away
and bombarded her with
thoughts that she'd kept at bay.
These thoughts became the dream
she was subjected to.
The horrid memories
that she'd tried to subdue.
Of the night she and Kyle
got into a bad fight,
after she'd been testy
toward him most of the night.
How she'd chastised him for
wasting time with a game
that she felt was moronic
and fully to blame
for his not being social
or getting out more,
and how he'd sit in the dark
behind a shut door.
He'd told her that WOW let him
play with his friends who
they'd left behind after
moving a time or two.
That he and them could talk
like they used to back when
they could all meet face to face
again and again.
She'd told him to make new friends.
He'd said that he did.
And that was when Paige seemed to
fully flip her lid.
She'd called him a loser
with no real social life,
who'd become a fat slob
and never find a wife
because he was too busy
on his computer.
That he had become a
disappointment to her.
Kyle'd gotten angry too
and shouted back how she
just didn't get it and
never would, most likely.
She'd shouted at him,
“Then explain it to me, Kyle!
Tell me why that dumb game's
worth a hermit's lifestyle?!”
Kyle'd yelled right back,
“My new friends here don't play this stuff!”
“Oh no!” Paige yelled mockingly.
“That must be so rough!”
Kyle'd sneered at his mother
for a moment or two
before he yelled at her,
“What am I sp'osed to do,
“pretend to like basketball
or that NASCAR shit,
when I couldn't care less
about any of it?
“And who are you to give
me shit about my game,
when you sit on your ass
watching shows that are lame?
Talk shows and gossip shit
for hours ev'ry day.
Yet you jump up my ass
because I want to play
World of Warcraft with
friends I can't see any more?”
That was when Paige slapped her son
with extreme vigor.
He'd reeled from the hit,
stumbling off to his right.
“Go to hell!” she'd screamed.
“Get the fuck out of my sight!”
“Fine by me,” Kyle'd said,
then went to his room to get
the keys to his car,
which was a beat up Chevette.
As he came storming back,
Paige'd yelled, “I'm not done, Kyle!”
“I'm done listening!” he'd replied.
“Done by a mile!”
Her eyes flared with rage as
Kyle went out the front door,
slamming it hard behind him
as his mother swore
up a storm while she came
following him outside
with a near hateful glare
and a purposeful stride.
Outside in the snow
that had been falling a while,
onto her son, her anger
continued to pile.
“Get back here!” she'd shouted.
“Go to hell!” he'd yelled back
as he got into his car.
“I'm done with your flack!”
Paige'd watched as her son's car
backed out of the driveway,
then sped off down the street
where it faded away.
Her dream then became a mix
of moments that were
filled with images that
were like torture to her.
Of getting a phone call
from a cop who had said
there'd been an accident
and that her son was dead.
Of driving through the snow
to a morgue so that she
could see and identify
his lifeless body.
Of a cop telling her how
her son lost control
of his car in the snow,
which then caused it to roll
at a high rate of speed
into a large pine tree.
And with no seat belt on,
he'd been killed instantly.
Of a funeral and
coming back to a home
that her son was gone from and
would no longer roam.
Of guilt and sorrow over
what was said and done.
Of the last words she had hurled
at her only son.
But like every bad dream,
it was soon left behind
as she opened her eyes
and was thankful to find
that it was Christmas Eve.
That the rough night was done
and her bedroom was lit up
by the morning sun.
She let out a yawn and
sat slowly up in bed,
the echoes of her dream
still running through her head.
Christmas Eve came and went
with almost no fanfare.
She stayed home and cleaned
and didn't go anywhere.
Day turned into night
and it wasn't long before
she was asleep in bed,
letting out a light snore.
Christmas morning arose
and soon saw Paige awake.
She laid there for a while
and decided to take
some time before she sat up
and let out a yawn
as she took in the warm glow
from the new day's dawn.
Paige got out of her bed
and answered nature's call,
then sleepily made her way
out into the hall.
Once there, her eyes turned to
the shut door at the end,
beyond which was the bedroom
where her son would spend
so much time playing games
or just watching TV.
But no one was there now,
yet it was not empty.
Paige strode down the hallway
and opened up that door,
which revealed a room that
looked as it had before
Kyle had stormed out on that
night seven years ago,
when he left one last time
into the falling snow.
Posters lined the walls,
from games to various bands,
with a sculpture piece that
he'd done with his own hands.
On a small shelf, a curvy
woman that he'd made
stood wearing very little
while holding a blade.
Beside her, stood a wolf
with a snarl on its face.
Both looked set to fight
as they stared off into space.
Nearby was his desk where
his computer still sat.
She saw some dust there and said,
“I'll have to clean that.”
But just as she looked away,
something caught her eye.
Something that wasn't there
the last time she'd come by.
On Kyle's desk, right next to the
keyboard that was there,
was what looked like a gift
wrapped in Christmasy flare.
The paper was red and green,
with white snow flakes too.
For a few moments,
she looked unsure what to do.
“Where'd that come from?” she asked
and walked over to see.
When she picked up the gift,
“This thing's addressed to me?”
She looked at the present's tag
through a wide-eyed stare.
“To Paige, from Santa,”
was what had been written there.
“Where'd this come from?” she asked
as she held the present.
She then removed the paper
after a moment.
Within a few seconds,
she looked lost and unsure
as she held a game box
that she had seen before.
She recognized the female
elf on the cover
and the words “World of Warcraft”
that were above her.
But also on that box
was a small, Post-It note.
On it, “Install this and play,”
was what someone wrote.
Paige looked lost and confused;
wary of what to do.
Were the gift and note some things
that she should eschew?
Or should she go along
with what was asked of her
and take a chance to find out
just what will occur?
She did and said nothing
for a good minute more,
staring at the box and note
intently before
she opened the game's box
and removed the CD,
then turned on the power
to her son's old PC.
Though the machine was old,
it still booted up fast.
It was then that she did
what the Post-It note asked.
She popped in the CD and
waited 'till the screen
that told her how to install
the game could be seen;
a screen that asked if she
was all set to have fun
with “World of Warcraft:
Special Christmas Edition.”
With a few left mouse clicks,
the disc drive came alive
and Paige waited until the
“finished” screen arrived.
With the game now installed
and everything all set,
she got the game started with,
“Let's see what we get.”
She watched the game's intro
and came to the screen where
two spaces to log into
an account were there.
But those spaces looked to be
already filled in.
So she clicked on “Login”
so the game would begin.
It took roughly a minute
for the game to load.
But once it finished,
Paige took in what the screen showed.
Before her eyes was
the low polygon count of
what looked like a tavern
that was viewed from above.
The chairs, tables, plates, railings
and all of the rest,
were all a bit blocky.
They didn't look their best.
But, the warm glow of the fire
and candles gave it
a cozy and inviting
welcoming spirit.
Up close on the screen was
what looked like an elf lass,
whose slinky clothes did little
to cover her ass.
“Is that who Kyle played as?”
she muttered to herself.
“Figures that he'd go and
pick a scantly clad elf.”
Paige grinned, shook her head,
and then moved the mouse around.
As the game's camera panned,
it was then she found
that no one else was in
the digital tavern,
which brought a tone to her voice
that was harsh and stern.
“Well this looks boring,” she said,
still moving her view
with the mouse 'till she heard
that someone had come through
a squeaky swinging door,
like from an old saloon.
“Why'd Kyle spend so much time
with this each afternoon?”
At the screen's bottom,
a line of text did appear
that said, “It's better when
more people are in here.”
Paige moved the mouse so that
the camera swung to
show that someone was behind
her character, who
just stood in place in an
idle animation.
Then new text appeared that read,
“Then it's way more fun.”
Paige looked at the character
across from her own.
It was then for a loop,
that she found her mind thrown.
“What the-?” she uttered with
confusion on her face.
“OK. How'd they hear me?
Did someone mic my place?”
“No,” came text on the screen.
“Starting up my PC
makes my monitor's mic
start automatically.”
“Your?” Paige said with suspicion
as she eyed the screen.
“I bought this for my son, Kyle.
This is his machine.”
“I know,” came some new text.
“That's why I called it 'my'
and why you're using the
character I named 'Kai.'”
Paige started at the screen
with an uncertain gaze that
told of her confusion and
where her mind was at.
“What's going on here?” she said.
“Who the hell are you?”
It was a moment later
that she began to
see something about the
new person's character
that began to seem oddly
familiar to her.
The model was rough with
its low polygon count,
but it looked like Kyle by
a sizable amount.
The way the hair was black
and scruffy on its head,
as if it had just rolled
itself out of its bed.
The blue eyes and glasses
and heavily-bridged nose.
The thin arms that stuck out
from its thick looking clothes.
The oval-shaped face and
its quite thin-looking frame
that looked very much like him
despite how the game
had his likeness on an elf,
which seemed a bit weird.
Seeing what looked like Kyle,
but blue skinned and long-eared.
But that was surpassed when
the game dropped a new bomb,
as the Kyle-like elf waved
with text that said, “Hi Mom.”
Paige stood in stunned silence,
not knowing what to say.
“Who is this?” she asked
as she turned her eyes away.
A new bit of text came up.
“It's me, Mom,” it read.
“This isn't funny,” she stated.
“My son is dead.”
“I know,” came new text.
“It's been seven years since that
night that I left home after
we had that huge spat.”
“I'm turning this off,” Paige said,
anger in her voice.
“I don't know who you are
to make the kind of choice
“to play this sick joke on me,
you son of a bitch!”
“Please Mom, don't!” came new text.
“Don't hit the power switch!
“Ask me any question.
Whatever comes to mind.
I'll prove I'm me and not
someone being unkind.”
“Fine,” Paige blurted. “Tell me,
when Kyle was about four,
what happened with him
and my old desk's middle drawer?”
After a moment, some new text
popped up on-screen.
“You want me to relive that?
C'mon Mom, that's mean.”
“Now!” Paige shouted.
Up came new text that read, “That's when
I pinched my small johnson
in that drawer in your den.”
“Tell me how,” she insisted.
“Fine,” read the new text.
“I used to run through the house
nude, which made you vexed.
Well, I was looking for
that toy xylophone you
regretted giving me
when I was about two.
You had gone and hid it
so that I couldn't play
with the thing in the kitchen
every single day.
I found it in the bottom
drawer of the desk you
told me to stay out of...
something I didn't do.
When I heard you coming,
I slammed the desk drawer shut.
God, the pain that I felt
made me think that I'd cut
the damn thing right off and
lost my little fire hose.
But that was what I got
for standing way too close
to the lip of that drawer
with how short I was then.
I never did play in
that house naked again.”
Paige remained silent as
she read the text on-screen.
Once she had reached the end,
budding tears could be seen
building in her eyes as she
looked once again to
the Kyle-like elf and asked,
“Is... is it really you?”
The text, “It's really me, Mom,”
appeared as Paige took
a seat in Kyle's desk chair,
looking visibly shook.
“How are you here?” Paige asked.
“I don't understand how
I can be talking with you
inside this game now.”
“I don't get it either, Mom,”
the new text did read.
“I got pulled into here
and told that I would need
to go into this tavern
as soon as I could.
And when I questioned why,
I was just told, 'You should.'”
“You were told?” Paige inquired.
“Who told you to do this?”
“Beats me,” came some new text.
“They said I shouldn't miss
the chance to talk with someone
that was close to me.
All I heard was a voice.
There was no one to see.
“That, and that I only had
a short time to stay
before all this would end
and I'd fade back away.”
Paige's bewildered look
took on a saddened tinge
and she could feel her throat
had begun to constringe
as the weight of what she'd heard
pressed down on her heart.
“If we don't have much time,”
she said, “then let me start
by saying I'm sorry
for what I did the night
you drove away from here
after we had our fight.”
As she looked away
through growingly glassy eyes,
“I can tell you how much
that I've come to despise
“myself for the way that
I treated you that night.
I went way overboard
and it just wasn't right.
“I should have never hit you
or said what I said.”
It was at that moment
that her first tear was shed.
“And ever since I lost you,
at this time every year,
all I can think is
I'm the reason you're not here.”
She said nothing for a time.
No text did appear.
And as this moment went on,
Paige began to fear
that the one on the screen
who had come from somewhere
outside of the living world,
was no longer there.
“Kyle?” she said softly,
as she looked on with a stare
that was worry-filled.
“Please tell me that you're still there.”
“I'm still here,” came new text.
“I've yet to leave this place.”
As she read those words,
relief came to Paige's face.
“I screwed up,” Paige continued.
“I wish I could take
back all I said and did
and be able to make
things like they had been
before I pushed you away.
Then you'd still be here with me
and you'd be OK.”
“I'd like that too,” came new text.
“But before I go,
there are a few things that
I would like you to know.
“I don't blame you for my death.
That was all on me.
I was pissed off and driving
pretty recklessly.
“I was cursing you out
and not watching the road.
I'd paid no attention
to how much it had snowed.
“Driving with one hand
because I was too busy
hitting the dashboard.
And look at what it cost me.”
“But I was the reason you left,”
Paige insisted.
New text then read, “But I was
the reason I slid
“off of the road and slammed
into that stupid tree.
I caused what ended my life.
Not you Mom, just me.
“I could have gone back to
my room and slammed the door.
Flipped you off behind your back.
Sat in there and swore
like I'd done a hundred times
in the past when you
would give me shit about
the things I liked to do.”
“But this time was diff'rent,”
Paige insisted and pled.
“I hit you. Put you down.
And you ended up dead.”
Another silence came.
No text or spoken word.
All the while, Paige watched through
vision that was tear-blurred.
She had grown worried when
some new text read, “That's true.
But I still crashed my car, Mom,
and I don't blame you.
“You didn't force me out
or into that dumb tree.
So stop blaming yourself
for what happened to me.”
Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks
as she took a slow breath.
She let it out and said,
“Since the night of your death,
“I've wished so many times
that I could hold you so
I could tell you that
I love you and let you know
“how sorry I am for
what happened on that night.
That I wanted to undo
it and make things right.”
As she stared at the screen,
some fresh text appeared there.
“It's alright, Mom,” it read.
“I was always aware
“that you loved me and whatnot.
One fight doesn't change
all of that, no matter
how heated the exchange.”
“Maybe,” she said softly.
“But I still went too far.
I said and did things to you
that left a huge scar
“in my heart because of
what my ranting cost you.
I lost my only son
and a piece of me, too.”
Her face contorted a bit
as she fought back tears.
“I've missed you so much
over the last seven years.”
Text that read, “I've missed you too,”
appeared on the screen.
After a few moments,
more new text could be seen.
“There's something I want
to say while I have the chance
that was given to me with
this strange happenstance.
“I know that you're hurting
over what you said back
when we had our big fight
and you gave me that smack.
“I won't lie to you, Mom.
All of that hurt me too.
I never expected to
hear that stuff from you.
“But the fact is, I did
and it can't be undone.
I lost my life on that night
and you lost your son.
“But let me repeat this, Mom.
You didn't kill me.
Don't keep blaming yourself
for all eternity.
“But if it will make you
feel better, let me say
that I forgive you on
this early Christmas Day.”
“W-what?” she stammered as
her expression went slack
and she did her best to
hold all her sorrow back.
“I forgive you,” came new text.
A moment later,
a large swell of anguish
forced itself out from her.
With her face in her hands,
she cried for a good while
before she was able
to give a saddened smile
to the monitor where
the Kyle-like character
stood in an idle
animation before her.
“You dried out now?” came text
which made her laugh lightly.
“Don't be smart,” she chuckled.
“That meant a lot to me.”
New text that read, “I could tell,”
popped up, followed by,
“I honestly can't
remember the last time I
“saw you cry like you did
a few moments ago.
Hell, I don't think I ever
saw you cry, you know?”
Paige smiled and then said,
“Had to put on a brave front
so that my kid couldn't
pull some kind of cheap stunt
“and play my emotions
like they were a fiddle.”
As she laughed, new text read,
“I never could diddle.
“Every time I tried to
throw a tantrum so I
could have things my way,
you would just wait out my cry
“and say, 'Are you done now?'
as you stared down at me.
I don't think you ever
caved to one bratty plea.”
For the next hour or so,
they talked about a lot.
Moments that made them laugh,
and moments that did not.
Of times that made memories,
ones both good and bad,
throughout many of
the seventeen years they'd had
together before so much
had gone very wrong.
But soon something unwanted
came creeping along.
“Mom?” some fresh text read.
“I think my time here's over.”
Paige read this, and a
sad expression came to her.
“Already?” she asked.
“I think so,” the new text read,
which left Paige looking unsure
of what should be said.
She brought up a hand and
placed her finger tips to
the screen as she sadly
smiled with, “Kyle, I love you.
“I don't know how or why
this happened on this day.
But I wish so damn much that
somehow you could stay.”
“I love you too, Mom,” came text
on the monitor.
“I'm really sorry that
we couldn't talk some more.”
“Will I get to talk to
you here again?” she asked,
as her quickly building tears,
she tried to keep masked.
“I don't think so,” new text read.
“I think this is it.
But we'll meet again when
you kick the ol' bucket.”
Paige smiled a bit, with,
“Don't be such a smart ass, Kyle.”
“Goodbye, Mom,” new text read.
“See you after a while.”
“Good-bye,” Paige uttered
as her emotions did swell.
“I love you, Kyle.”
Some text read, “Love you as well.”
Kyle's elfish character
turned and walked from the place,
leaving Paige with tears that
streamed down her pain-filled face.
She cried for a good while
and rested her chin on
the desk as she stared at
where the Kyle-like elf'd gone.
But after a while,
a window came up that read,
“Try not to be sad, Paige.
Try to focus instead
“on the moments you just shared
here with your son, Kyle.
Even if that time was
only for a short while.”
Paige looked confused as she
sat up in her son's chair
and watched as new text
continued to appear there.
“I know your old wounds
have been reopened by this.
By speaking with the son
that you very much miss.
“But take to heart what was said
and let it help you.
Let it ease the pain inside
and help get you through
“this moment in time that
gave you a chance to say
what you've wanted to since
that unfortunate day.
“Take care of yourself
and know that this was no trick.
It was real from start to end.
Best wishes, St. Nick.”
Paige stared with mouth agape
as she came to the end
of the text from someone
who had helped her to mend
at least some of the pain
that had grown in her heart.
Pain that came from an event
that she did impart
to an old man at the mall
that she didn't know
who had been dressed up as
Santa from head to toe.
A few moments later,
the computer shut down.
The monitor went blank
and Paige brought forth a frown.
“Guess it's over,” she said
in a voice that was sad
as her eyes hinted at
the fresh tears that still had
yet to roll down her cheeks
because of what took place.
But before too long,
a smile came to Paige's face.
A smile that held the glow
of a mother's love for
the son she no longer had,
yet still did adore.
And with the blank screen of
the monitor in sight,
“Thank you, Santa,” she said.
“And to all, a good night.”
Hope you all enjoyed it. And of course, Merry Christmas